


To be the mess that he wants to clean.

by IsabelleJones



Category: Arthur - Fandom, Merlin - Fandom, Merthur - Fandom, dom!arthur - Fandom, sub!merlin - Fandom
Genre: Arthur - Freeform, Merlin - Freeform, dom!Arthur, sub!Merlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsabelleJones/pseuds/IsabelleJones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur owns a bdsm club and it's not your stereotypical one, it's unique. A bit like Merlin.</p><p>This goes through their relationship as a whole:</p><p>Arthur living in his father's shadow and Merlin lost because of an absent dad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Merlin isn’t a dom, so it’s quite surprising that when Merlin walks in (with head bowed down and lips chewed too raw), everyone stops to stare. Arthur had been gone during Christmas break to go traveling. He had visited Spain, France, Switzerland and all the other places but none of that compared to this  (Merlin in a grey t-shirt and jeans slung low with a neck that is bare and just begging to be marked).

 

“Who’s that?” Arthur asks from where he sits comfortably, legs spread wide and eyes devouring every detail of the room. Chloe, the girl who had been kneeling at his feet doesn’t stir, she knows better then to answer when not spoken directly to. Instead, Morgana answers.

“That is Merlin, he’s start quite a fuss up this month. We’ve got members fighting to make him theirs.” Morgana informs. Arthur watches the way Merlin walks to the bar, quietly hails down the bartender who had already been staring at him and order a drink. Merlin is   nervous, Arthur can tell by the way Merlin tugs at the bottom of his sleeves and smiles shyly at the bartender.

 

The club is a dark velvet mess of: Curtains that are drawn across plain walls painted black, whispers of moans trailing from the back doors, Doms quietly saying into the accepting ears of their sub ‘you’ve been so good. So, so good.’ and Subs who lick their lips with a glazed look dancing in their eyes.

 

Arthur is about to walk over to Merlin but someone beats him to it and so Arthur watches. He watches to see how Merlin acts when a man, Arthur’s noticed this man before, with curl brown hair stroll up to him. Merlin's reaction is not what Arthur expects. Merlin shrugs of his shy exterior and his face is lit up by a grin.

Arthur can’t hear what they’re saying but he watches the way they both move around each other, he watches the way Merlin looks down in respect and something at the pit of his stomach begin to curl. 

 

“Morgana, I want a session with him.”Arthur states and since they own the club, Arthur should get first priority, right? Wrong.


	2. Chapter two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I was happy with this chapter at all, maybe the last bit in Morgana's perspective but apart from that it was shit. Sorry, there's a heartbreaking storyline though filled with filthy smut, promise.

“I said I wanted a session with him,” Arthur says, relentless. Arthur had walked into the club, worn his favorite red t-shirt and was ready for Merlin.

“He said no,” Morgana answers and Arthur’s eyes land on Merlin, Merlin who’s sitting at that same spot at the bar. 

“He said no?” Arthur asks, running his fingers through the Julian’s short sandy blonde hair. They’re all in the same position and to Arthur it feels like De Ja Vu except Julian’s nestled at his feet instead of the girl from last night. Arthur stands up, whispers into Julian’s ear a soft ‘I’ll be back, soon.’ and walks over to the bar. He watches Merlin first, his gaze slick against Merlin’s skin and he notices the soft curl of brunette at the nape of his neck, the insolent curve of his lower lip.

Arthur steps forwards, pointedly ignoring Merlin and glances towards Lance, the bartender for the evening.

“On the rocks,” Arthur murmurs and he can tell by the way the mop of brunette tilts upwards, that Merlin is watching him. Lance nods at him, a smile stretching across his face.

“Mate, how was trip?” He asks, passing the drink and Arthur nods his head at Lance while he lifts the cup to his lips. 

“Good,” He answers and he gives Lance a look, a look that says it all and Lance nods with a smile, understanding as always. Arthur angles his body to face Merlin and he has to stop the intake of breath that wants to sharply run up because Arthur didn’t get to see Merlin like this last night. He didn’t get to see how lovely those lips looked up close, especially when Merlin nervously skittered a pink tongue across it, glazing it with spit Arthur wants to taste. Arthur hadn’t got to see Merlin’s cheekbones, painted a shade of light pink because Merlin was shy and blushing at the scenes sprawled in front of him. Arthur wants to know whether he can make that pink spread out and whether he can make Merlin’s mouth go slack with want. Arthur steps close, a bit too close and Merlin eyes are drawn as wide as the moon.

“I, I’m not- I don’t do this,” Merlin finally stutters, fingers twisting themselves into a knot. Arthur raises an eyebrow.

“I’m waiting for someone,” Merlin answers with ears, that were bigger then they had any right to be, are turning pink at tips.

 

 Arthur’s close, too close and Arthur knows, he knows that this is not how it’s supposed to be. Arthur Pendragon doesn’t preposition anyone, he gets the offers and if he likes what he sees, he’ll accept.

Arthur leans in smirking when Merlin draws in a breath and Arthur wishes he could have watched the air slip pass those lips, watch Merlin bite his lips raw. Arthur ghosts a breath against Merlin’s ear, careful not to touch.

“I’d really like for you to meet me tomorrow,’ Arthur says, the words moist from the wetness of Arthur’s mouth. Arthur lets his tongue tither on the edge of Merlin’s hot ear, he smirks when he feels Merlin physically shudder, squirming slightly in his seat.

 

Morgana watches from where she sits, watches as Arthur walks back with his drink in hand, his face an array of well kept want. Morgana curves her bruised red lips into an ‘o’ and blows out smokey rings as she takes in the way Merlin flushes, the stain smeared across cheekbones too sharp.

“Come here,” Arthur says to Julian as he settles down back into the chair. Morgana notices, even though Julian is mouthing Arthur through his jeans, Arthur’s fingers tangled into his hair as a guide...Arthur’s eyes are on Merlin’s, the blue hues of  Arthur’s eyes going a shade too dark when Merlin runs fingers through his hair frustratedly before dropping Arthur’s gaze; Respect.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't proof read and it was done in a half hour. It's stilted and I don't like it but I thought you guys deserved an update. Truth is, I wrote this chapter twice already but both time was late at night and my laptop keeps running out of battery and as you know, pages doesn't autosave.

 

 

 

Merlin’s 10 minutes and he’s soaking wet because apparently god hates him and decided today was a good day to piss all over earth as well as screw up the subway timetable.  

“Snakebite,” Merlin says, looking up to see the same bartender from the night before. The bartender raises an eyebrow. 

“Need a towel as well? Free of charge.” He says, grabbing a white cloth and chucking it at Merlin. Merlin barely catches it and glares at the bartender’s amused look.

“It didn’t even look like it was going to rain, okay.” He says, scrubbing the cloth over his face. “And the stupid weather girl lied, she said it was going to be cloudy not rainy.”

“Oh, I’ll be sure to write a letter of complaint for you then.” The bartender says, chuckling.

“Oh hush,” Merlin says, handing the towel back before sticking his hand out. “I’m Merlin.”

“Lance,” He says and then he pauses for a few moments. “You’re meeting Arthur tonight aren’t you?” 

Merlin nods and watches while Lance pulls out and mixes his drink. It’s not a quiet night but it’s definitely not as full as a Friday either. Merlin thinks he recognizes a few faces like a curly brunette, lips glossed over with a deep red and a blonde girl that’s always kneeling beside her. 

“He usually sets his plays at 8,” he says, sliding the drink over, then he notices Merlin’s guilty expression and he breaks out into a pitying grin.

“Oh god, you better down that,” Lance advises. “He’s not going to like you late.”

“He’s not going to like you drunk either,” Merlin swivels in his chair and jerks haltingly to a stop. Arthur’s wearing a black fitted t-shirt, his hair’s that kind of mussed-up that suggests that he may have just had wild sex and he’s casting Merlin a slightly unimpressed look. Okay, yeah. A very unimpressed look. Merlin watches as Arthur grabs the drink from his hand and slides it back towards Lance, giving him a pointed look. 

“Good luck, mate.” Lance says, smirking and heading to the next customer.

“10 minutes late. I should leave you here, Merlin.” Arthur says, licking already wet lips. Arthur’s a little breath taking. Merlin’s a little breathless. He pushes himself between Merlin’s knees--One’s jogging up and down a little manically and the other one’s quivering-- before he touches a forefinger to his chin to tilt Merlin’s head upwards. 

“You weren’t even here on time.” Merlin whines, put out. Arthur’s stare is hard and it forces Merlin to look away.

“Eyes, Merlin.” Arthur says, quiet. “That’s not the point, I gave you order and you didn’t follow it.”

“Okay fine, I’m sorry your royal highness.” Merlin mocks, Arthur’s lips don’t quirk up though and Merlin wishes it would.

“See that boy over there?” Arthur asks, gaze momentarily flicking to the left. Merlin’s eyes follow, his gaze traveling past the blur of mashed up bodies to a boy kneeling beside an arm chair. It’s startling how similar they are; A mop of black hair, ashy sweeps of eyelashes and bright, bright blue eyes locked onto one another.

“His name’s Mordred..” Arthur says. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”

Merlin drags his gaze away from Mordred’s and chews his lip.  Arthur has one hand running up and down Merlin’s thigh, nails scraping against the denim and it feels a little like heaven the way they dips too close and then skitter far away. 

“He’s waiting for me you know, wants me to play with him tonight but I told him no and maybe I should change my mind, yeah? Maybe I should let him suck my cock because he’s good at that, he’ll do it all day if I let him. And then  maybe I’ll  fuck him until he’s dirty with the slick of it all or I’ll make him ride me until he aching to come and he’ll want to but he won’t until I say he can. He’ll be so good for me, Merlin. ” Arthur says and Merlin feels something twisting inside of him.  

“I can be good,” Merlin mumbles, lips moving over the words quickly.  There’s a stilled silence where Arthur just watches Merlin, the way he drags pearly white across a quivering lower lip before looking at anywhere but Arthur’s eyes. 

“You haven’t been good for me though have you, Merlin?” Arthur asks and he pulls away. Merlin makes a strange sound at the loss of heat and panics slightly because Arthur can’t leave now, not when he’s all worked up and fuck. Arthur steps away, already forgetting Merlin and Merlin feels an ache, a desperate one that’s too consuming. It makes him hurt in the stomach and Arthur’s looking at Mordred in such a fond way.  Arthur walks to Mordred, hips sashaying side to side and Merlin just stares, obscenely jealous and a little bitter.  

When Arthur sits down, he lets his knees splay apart and Mordred crawls inbetween them hands on Arthur’s thighs. He’s got his back to Merlin now and Merlin can’t lie, Mordred’s beautiful, in a way Merlin doesn’t think he’ll ever be and he knows he should look away but he can’t. Arthur doesn’t look at Merlin like he did the other night, his eyes are focussed only on Mordred and it’s  a bit like a blow to the stomach, the way he’s forgotten Merlin.

“Apologize,” A girl says. Merlin slants a look to the left and looks at the curly brunette. She’s startlingly beautiful with green eyes that shine through thick black lashes. She lick her lip, her tongue leaving a glistening trail across the red. 

“It’s fine.” Merlin says, looking away to try and catch Lance’s eye. That drink would be good. “I should just watch anyway, I’m not terribly good at this.”

“Apologize,” She repeats and then she leaves, eyes catching sight of the blonde girl.  Merlin catches sight of his of his snakebite, hidden on the lower counter and he steals it back, gulps it down. 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's okay to yell at me for taking half a life time to upload and not proof-reading.  
> I'm a menace to society in that sense, actually in a lot of senses but yeah.  
> Woah, did that even make sense?  
> I just used sense so many times. Tehehe.  
> Okay, well, have fun.

When Arthur walks past Morgana she stops him, manicured fingers curling around his forearm and the smile she gives him is feral. 

“I trust you won’t be hell to work with after tonight then,” She says and the smile she gives him, gleams like the sharpest knife.  

 

“You were ten minutes late, Merlin.” Arthur says, when he enters the room. The room is large with walls painted a silver and sallow dim lights that illuminate the room in a hushed glow. “So, should we say, ten strikes for every minute you were late?”

Merlin’s kneeling at the door, his hands jittering at the sides, tapping little beats and of course _Merlin_ wouldn’t know you’re meant to be still. He snaps his head up to meet Arthur’s eyes and nods, slowly like maybe he’s rethinking this whole thing and Arthur knows this is what Merlin needs but that doesn’t mean Merlin does. 

“Merlin,” Arthur says, voice strong. “You will answer when spoken to.”

“Yes,” He says, quiet and then almost as if it’s an after thought. “Sir.”

Arthur smiles, motions for Merlin to stand up while he head towards the bed. The bed is a deep red, dark in depth and silky to touch. The room feels a little like a breath stolen away from time, snatches of eternity that narrows down to just the both of them. When Merlin stands, his knees are shaky, almost like they’ve forgotten how to work. Arthur’s sat at the edge of the bed, leg spread wide with elbows resting on knees. They settle into a honey gold silence then leaves Merlin breathing harder with no where to look and Arthur waiting for Merlin to look him in the eyes because that where Merlin’s gaze belongs.  Blue eyes finally lands carefully on Arthur’s own ones. 

“Strip,” Arthur says and Merlin’s eyes widen so much that Arthur almost laughs. Merlin notices and scowls slightly at Arthur before remembering himself and shrugging off articles of clothing while Arthur curses himself for not mentioning the keyword slow. Merlin’s beautiful, pale white that spreads across sharp bones and Arthur finds he wants to mouth at it until in turns a deep red. He wants to drag his tongue across Merlin’s skin and find out how he tastes; salty like the ocean that spreads filthy under the moon gaze or sweet like the way milk becomes sometimes after your cereals been eaten. 

“Leave you boxers on and then lay yourself over my lap,” he instructs and after Merlin does, Arthur curls fingers into his hair. It’s softer then Mordred’s, the hair more unruly but tamer when wrapped around Arthur’s fingers.

“Can you tell me why your being punished?” Arthur asks, dropping his head low into the crook of Merlin’s neck so that he’s mouth is hot against a slither of pale. Merlin shudders. It’s quite an appealing scene, Arthur bent over a shivering Merlin while he squirms under Arthur;’s touch.

“I- I was late.” He says, burying his face into the red of the sheets. 

“What’s your safeword?” Arthur asks, running fingers along the grooves of Merlin’s back.

“Balinor,” Merlin  _whines_.

 

Arthur’s quiet, savoring the way Merlin feels against him, the way he curves his body in anticipation for the pain and the his hip bones dig into Arthur’s lap having no right to feel that good but doing so anyway. The first hit startles Merlin and he almost jumps away from Arthur but Arthur holds him down with one arm. 

“Are you okay?” Arthur asks, running a hot hand over the spot. Merlin nods and finally gasps out “Yeah. I mean yes, yes sir.”

He’s better after the next few hits and by the time they reach up to the 7th he’s writhing against Arthur trying to gain friction before he lets out a strangled moan on the 8th, 9th and 10th.   Arthur flips Merlin over and gets him to straddle him, legs splay obscenely over Arthur’s thighs.

“You were so good, Merlin.”Arthur says when Merlin drops his head into the warmth of Arthur’s neck. He sniffles there and Arthur strokes hiss hair, fingers playing with the curls strung at the nape of his neck.  They stay like that for a while and Arthur finally tugs at Merlin to get him pull away. His eyes are bright blue and his pupils blown impossibly wide. Arthur flips them over until he’s towering over Merlin and Merlin looks almost scared, staring up at Arthur, unsure of what to do. Arthur starts of with Merlin’s neck, sucking at where the shadows pool in the dips of bones. He kisses the coldnesss down Merlin’s torso, grabbing a nipple between harsh teeth and biting a little sharper then usual, only if to hear the way Merlin’s breath hitch and to feel the way his body tries to shift away and into the pain all at the same time. When Arthur brushes his hot mouth over Merlin’s cock, he moans deep and low and Arthur can feel the sound tremble through Merlin’s bones. He mouths Merlin’s cock, making the material wet with his spit just to hear more noises fall out of Merlin’s mouth. 

“You’ve been such a good boy Merlin.” Arthur says, tugging down the underwear. “But I want you to do something else for me okay? I’m going to put a cock ring on you and I want you to know it’s not because you’re being punished. It’s because I want you learn what it’s like to savour something, to wait because it’s so much better like that.”

Merlin nods and groans when Arthur finally touches his cock, unable to help himself. Arthur’s hand feels like summer and Merlin feels his toes scraping against red bedsheets when Arthur strokes him. Arthur’s touch feel like fire, like hotness that doesn’t subside and Merlin knows he’ll be burnt but he wants it so badly. Arthur continues to stroke Merlin in torturously slow motions while he tugs Merlin’s underpants down. And then suddenly, the fire is gone and it’s winter ice against Merlin’s skin. 

“Merlin,” Arthur says, voice carefully kept. “Sit up.”

Merlin does, confused and when Arthur watches the way his mouth is wet and red he wants to kiss it. Arthur traces his fingers over the expanse of skin he’s freed into view, careful not to press to hard at the cuts prevalent across Merlin’s thighs. They’re a bright red, scab forming over but some are white and distant like ghost while others a slither of silver. Merlin blushes, deep and red before he scrambles away. He hugs his knees and looks away from Arthur. _Stupid, stupid,_ he thinks angrily to himself because it’s just like him to forget that he has scars that are meant to be secret. Arthur’s looking at him like he doesn’t know what to do and Merlin starts up suddenly but Arthur catches his wrist as if he knows Merlin’s ready to run away.

“Stay,” Arthur says, voice leaving no room for questions. Merlin stills.

“I want to know why you do this,” He asks like he really cares and Merlin wants to laugh because this isn’t permanent, this is him needing to let go for a while and Arthur doesn’t really care.

“I don’t have to answer that, I’m leaving.” Merlin says, starting up again but Arthur pins him down on the bed by the wrist with fingers that bite hard and then harder. Arthur drops his face down to Merlin’s, his breath hot against Merlin skin. 

“Tell me why. “ He says, ignoring Merlin’s outburst. It’s only when he feels Merlin go pliant under his touch  that he pulls away, giving Merlin space to think.

“It makes me feel better.”Merlin says, simple. Arthur nods, not comprehending. 

“Merlin, I want you to go home. I want you to throw away any sharp objects you use to harm yourself with and I want you to write a list of all the things that make you want to hurt yourself.” Arthur says, moving away.  Merlin sits up, bewildered because this isn’t how it’s supposed to work. Merlin wants to be fucked, tonight, he wants to forget. He doesn’t want to spend the whole night thinking about his father and why he isn’t good enough for him and he certainly doesn't want to throw away the only good thing going for him. He laughs, a bit manically, eyes wide and when Arthur looks at him, he continues.

“This isn’t your job. You’re job is to fuck me, to make me hurt. I’m not going to go home and think about all the things that hurt just because you’re too pussy to fuck an emo boy. I’ll just get someone else.” Merlin says, defiant because he wants to get off and Arthur’s messing with things that has nothing to do with him. Arthur’s eyes blaze at that. He carefully picks up Merlin’s clothes and hands them to him.

“My job is to make sure you’re taken care of Merlin, emotionally and physically. If you want to find someone else who’ll fuck you and make you hurt, that’s fine. In fact, Valliant’s free tonight. He’ll like you. But that won’t help, Merlin.” Arthur says, quiet. “I know what it’s like to hate yourself so much that it’s all you feel. I can’t let you live like that but if you want to, it’s not my choice. I’ll be here next week at the same time, come if you want.”

When he walks out, Merlin feels this ache deep within his stomach and he wants to dig nails into his flesh but he doesn’t. He takes deep breaths and walks out, he has half the mind to find Valiant and he does. He’s a strong muscly man, well built and Merlin can imagine him, pinning him down and fucking his mouth the way he wants it. he won’t ask any questions and when he fucks Merlin, he won’t ask about the scars. But then Merlin eyes slides across the room to see Arthur watching him and he finds he can’t. He leaves the club, drunk after another 2 drinks and alone. When he gets home, he picks up his blade and watches the way the light glimmers across it, the way it smiles at him. He places the metal against his thigh, thinks carefully about the way it’ll feel dragging across his skin and the takes away the warmth. He puts all his blades in a wooden box and goes out the strip of grass lining up the pavement out front his apartment to dig a hole. 

“I need to see how this turns out,” He whispers, apologetically. He thinks about it some more before he buries the box with crumbling dirt. It doesn’t feel earth shattering, what he’s doing but he thinks maybe it’ll be worth it. Maybe.


End file.
